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Flint gets up, shrugging. “I’ve watched you for a long time. You were a prisoner long before I kidnapped you. Your cell just looks different now.”
His words are like a punch to the gut and I shrink away from him, tears stinging my eyes. He’s right, and it absolutely kills me. I turn over and lie on my side so my back is facing Flint. I don’t want to look at him, let alone talk to him.
I hear him move around the room, and then the door opens, but I couldn’t move if I wanted to.
“Eat.”
The food must have been left outside the door. It smells good, whatever it is. But I’m pretty sure I’d just throw it up anyway.
When I don’t react, he sets it down on the nightstand, grumbling. Again I hear the sound of the door. And then Flint is gone and somehow, it makes me feel even worse.
Could what he said about my father be true? I mean, I know he’s cold and strict. But he’s not a bad person, not really. He loves me, he always says so. Everything he’s done has been to keep me safe. And isn’t that what you do when you love someone?
I roll onto my back, waiting for the tears to come. When they finally do, it’s a relief.
